Cemetery Weather
by OnlySecondsAway
Summary: When Tony's father dies Tony doesn't know how to handle it, so he turns to alcohol. Steve, who has been in love with Tony since college, hates to see Tony upset, and hates it even more when he drinks. Sequel to Take Me Back To Where It All Began, prequel to You Sounded Sober.


**A/N:**Hi! This story is in my AU series, where Tony and Steve meet in college. It comes after Take Me Back To Where It All Began, and before You Sounded Sober.

* * *

"Steve, it's _my_ bar," Tony throws back. "I can do what I want."

"It's your father's bar," the older man points out. "And regardless, it's still illegal."

"I know, I know, Captain Righteous. But it's fine. No one cares, I'm Tony Stark," the dark haired boy is only kind of teasing, but this is how most nights go for the two recent-graduates.

Steve just recently turned twenty-two, and had graduated from MIT with an art degree. He's not sure what he's going to do with that degree, but right now he's working in a coffee shop during the day and bartending at night. Tony couldn't be happier with that set-up, he loves coffee _and_ alcohol. The only problem Tony has is that Steve routinely refuses to serve him because of his age.

Tony, on the other hand, doesn't work. Well, he kind of works for Stark Industries, but that's just whenever he feels like designing something and wants the lab and equipment access. He lives off Howard, for the most part. Tony doesn't have a good relationship with his father, mostly because they barely know each other. His mother left when he was two because Howard worked late and drank even later; Tony hadn't heard from her since. Of course, her leaving didn't stop the weapons and technologies manufacturer, so Tony was mostly raised by the maids and Jarvis.

Steve understands that, as his parents both died in a car accident when he was a young boy, and he lived with various relatives until he was accepted into MIT. He was on a partial scholarship, and he's still working to pay off the loans on top of his rent, hence the two jobs.

Their evenings at the bar usually go on in the same way. Tony begs for alcohol, Steve ignores him. Finally, Steve will relent; he just can't resist for very long. He's had a crush on the younger boy since they met, but because of Tony's age and their growing friendship Steve was never able to make a move. Hell, he'd thought the kid was straight, until a night at a party when he found Tony passed out naked with some blonde football player. That had pissed Steve off, Tony had only been seventeen, and the other man was already twenty-two.

As the two men are joking and laughing, Steve has finally handed Tony a beer (just _one_ he justifies) , Tony's phone rings. While he is a popular guy, most people just text him, so Tony is startled by the call, and quickly pulls his phone out. It's already midnight on a Sunday, so even the timing is weird for a social call.

"It's the NYPD," Tony says confusedly. "Why are they calling me?"

Steve starts to get a sickening fear in his stomach as the boy answers the phone and his normally dark complexion losing all color. Tony's whole body tenses, gripping the bar with his free hand, and he looks like he's about to pass out, vomit, or both. He says a few quick and quiet words, confirming he's on his way, and hangs up the phone.

"T-tony? What's going on?" Steve is almost scared to ask.

"I, I, I have to, to go. I have to go," Tony tries to choke out. "My father. Dead. My father's dead. I have to go."

With that Tony stumbles to his feet, dizzy from holding his breath, and the sheer panic he's feeling. He rushes out the door, forgetting his coat, before Steve can offer to help him. It's February, it's damn cold out. Steve has never been more worried about anything in his life, as he is about Tony right now. He loves the boy more than he's ever loved anyone, and he doesn't like knowing that he's out there, freezing, on his way to his dead father.

And Howard's _dead_? Steve barely knows the man, personally, but he's met him; he's seen him in interviews, he knows his story, Tony has even talked about him on a few occasions. It seems surreal; especially knowing that he was Tony's only known living relative, besides his estranged mother.

Steve spends the next few hours focusing on his job, trying not to think about Tony. At about three he's alone, the other patrons having left after the two o'clock last-call, and is just about ready to close up. He's beat, he just wants to talk to Tony and go to bed; he has to be at the coffee shop at ten; he usually only gets to sneak in a few hours of sleep between each job.

He's finishing wiping down a table in the back, when he hears the door open and close.

"We're closed!" He yells out, not looking at whatever drunk he assumes has wandered in.

"Steve," Tony says, the word coming out strained and broken.

Steve turns quickly, rushing over to Tony, pulling him close. He wants to warm him up, hold him and never let go.

"Steve," Tony chokes out again.

"It's okay," he hushes, knowing it's not. "It'll be okay." He's holding Tony as tightly as he can, placing kisses to the top of the boy's head.

Tony starts to shake and cry, sobs erupting from his chest. He's exhausted and barely hanging onto Steve, who is holding him, not knowing what else to do. They stay like that for some time, but Steve isn't sure how long. Tony pulls back slowly, eyes red and puffy, with chapped lips to match. His cheeks are blotchy and tear-streaked, and his hair is a disheveled mess. Steve feels like his heart is breaking just seeing Tony like this.

Tony walks over to the bar, grabs a bottle of the closest hard liquor, and takes a long pull straight from it. Steve would normally protest, not just to Tony's underage drinking, but to anyone drinking away their problem, but he can't stop Tony. He just wants the boy to feel better, and doesn't want to stop him from anything that might make him feel better.

They don't talk much, Tony mostly just drinks and cries. Steve never asks what happened; Tony will tell him when he can. He just sits next to Tony in a booth, until the kid falls asleep.

"You're just a kid," he says to himself as he scoops the sleeping boy into his arms. "You don't deserve this," he murmurs, placing a kiss to his friend's forehead.

He does his best to lock up, and then takes Tony home, to his own apartment in Brooklyn. He gets him in bed, and after getting ready himself, falls asleep on the couch.

When Steve's alarm goes off in the morning, Tony is already gone. All that's there is a note:

"Thank you. I'm sorry. –Tony"

Steve picks up the note, folds it, and slips it into his pocket. He doesn't know _why_ Tony is sorry, but he assumes he's just unsure of how to act. Steve decides to give him a quick call, before getting in the shower. He leaves a message when Tony doesn't answer; he's just really concerned about how Tony is doing.

He actually doesn't hear from Tony for a week, except for the invitation to the funeral. The funeral follows a few days after he receives the invitation, and Steve isn't sure if his suit is appropriate. It's a few years old, from his high school graduation, and pretty shabby, but no one will notice him anyway. He's only going at all to support Tony.

When Steve arrives at the church, he spots Tony immediately. Tony is dressed impeccably, and he looks remarkably pulled together. Steve's not sure why he's surprised, Tony _is_ a Stark, after all. He notices that Tony is standing with his dad's friend, Obediah. No one else is very close to Tony, not sure how to act around him, so Steve slips up quietly next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders. He feels the smaller man tense, before smiling, relaxing, and taking Steve's hand.

The service is closed-casket, and Steve briefly wonders what happened; all he'd heard was something about a lab accident. After the service in the church, he walks with Tony down to the grave site for the burial. He keeps Tony close, and side-hugs him strongly when he feels the brunette start to shake in an attempt to hold in his tears.

They barely speak, until Steve reluctantly leaves.

"Hey," he says, "you know you're welcome to stay with me, anytime. I'm here if you need to talk. I know what you're dealing with right now, you know that."

Steve is Tony's closest friend, and only friend currently in New York. The others had called and sent flowers, of course, but most of them were still in graduate school, or working in new places.

"I know. Thank you. I'm sorry about how I've been recently," Tony trails off.

"Don't worry, Tony," Steve reassures, "it'll get better, you'll see."

Tony nods and allows Steve to pull him into a hug, before making an excuse about work to leave.

"I, just, uh, have some things to take care of," he lies, fingering the flask in his jacket pocket.

Steve looks concerned, but he also has to work later, so he parts with Tony. Before Tony leaves, he talks with a few people, and by the end of it he's clutching the flask like it's all he has in life. When he finally reaches the car, away from the prying eyes of his father's "friends" and colleagues, he takes a long drink, the burn in the back of his throat helping to ease the burning behind his eyes.

On the short ride home, he finishes off the contents of the flask. When he gets upstairs, the apartment is empty; the hired help were all given the day off for the funeral. Tomorrow is Sunday, so he knows he'll be alone then, too. He smiles grimly to himself, grabs a few bottles from the bar, and plants himself in the living room; the blinds, shutters, and curtains are all pulled shut.

He stays shut up in the apartment for the next thirty hours or so, ignoring all incoming calls. At about ten o'clock on Sunday night, he wakes up with a pounding headache. The first thing he notices is the fact that he has _twelve_ missed calls from Steve, so he decides to call him back. When he hears the older man's voice, he starts crying, realizing how lonely he really is.

Steve is at work at the time, since the bar doesn't actually close until three in the morning. When he gets the call from Tony, however, he panics. Tony sounds distraught, he's sobbing half-way into saying hello.

"C-can you come over? I just, I need s-someone," he chokes out.

"Yeah, Tony," he says slowly. "I just, I need to close up the bar early then. It's only ten."

"'S fine. Just come when you can, I need you."

Tony sounds so broken, Steve starts to immediately clean up.

"Okay, Tony. I'll be there right away."

"Mmmkay, thank you, Steve."

"Not a problem, buddy. I'll see you soon."

Steve hangs up, and immediately tries to explain to the few patrons that they have to close, there's a family emergency. Everyone pretty much clears out, except for a few unruly frat boys, but Steve, at 6'4'' isn't someone they usually say no to for long. Steve is able to close up in about fifteen minutes, and is quickly making his way to Tony's place.

He truly is worried about Tony; he doesn't want the boy to do anything stupid. Because that's what he _is_; he's just a kid. He has no parents, no family, no one but his friends. Steve knows the feeling, and he knows that if he were more like Tony, things might not have turned out as well for him.

When he gets to Tony's, the younger man doesn't answer, so Steve lets himself in. He's shocked to find a drunk Tony, since the one who had called had been sober. Distraught, sure. He was crying pretty hard, but he wasn't drunk. Now? Now he's wasted.

"Steeeebe!" He yells, excitedly, before his expression rapidly changes to misery. "Stebe, I'm sorry."

Tony then stumbles over to Steve, and collapses in his arms, passed out cold.

Steve carries the man to his bed, and slips him out of his clothes, so he can sleep in his boxers. He's glad tomorrow is his day off at the coffee shop; he knows he won't sleep well tonight. He gets Tony a glass of water and a few painkillers on a napkin for when he wakes up.

Steve understands why Tony is doing this; he knows he's upset about his father. He just hopes it doesn't become a habit. He loves Tony too much to see him destroy himself the way his father did.

* * *

**A/N: **I know it would probably make sense to put them all into one story, but I don't want to be confined into writing them in order. Which would make sense, but that's just not how this story is coming to me. I got the idea for You Sounded Sober _first_, and then I thought up the rest. Next will probably be a few shorter one-shots about them actually being in college, and maybe some future pieces. Not sure.

Also, I am the only person who reads these before they're posted. If there's something you see that needs fixing, please let me know. Whether it be a typo, or a glaring error with an age or name.


End file.
